


holiday blues

by aelbereth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, strange pov switches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelbereth/pseuds/aelbereth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras froze. He’d forgotten the dilemma - his best friends were helplessly in “unrequited” love for each other. He couldn’t leave them alone for Christmas, arguably the snuggliest time of the year! (Did he just think the word snuggliest? Being in a relationship was getting to him.) Oh, well. They’d probably be fine.</p><p>Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holiday blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milou407](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milou407/gifts).



He had put it off for days, but Enjolras knew he had to break the bad news. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were sitting on the couch of his and Ferre’s apartment discussing Christmas plans, and they had to know before anything was finalised. 

 

“Um.” he began. They both turned their attention to him immediately. “I’m not going to be here for Christmas hols.”

 

Courfeyrac’s face fell a little, but he brightened up again quickly. “And why,” he said with a mischievous grin, “would that be?”

 

Combeferre smirked as Enjolras reddened slightly. “I’m taking R home for Christmas.” Courfeyrac cooed at him.

 

“That’s wonderful.” His rush of gratitude for Combeferre was halted when Enjolras saw his _right hand man’s_ eyebrows waggling.

 

“Marius is going to Italy with his girlfriends, so I’ll stay here with you, Ferre!” Courfeyrac snuggled up closer to Combeferre on the couch. 

 

Enjolras froze. He’d forgotten the dilemma - his best friends were helplessly in “unrequited” love for each other. He couldn’t leave them alone for Christmas, arguably the snuggliest time of the year! (Did he just think the word _snuggliest_? Being in a relationship was getting to him.) Oh, well. They’d probably be fine.

 

Probably.

 

x

 

A week later, Courfeyrac and Combeferre said goodbye to their best friend. Enjolras and Grantaire had a four-hour drive back to Enjolras’ parents’ place in Nantes. It would be the triumvirate’s first Christmas apart since they had first formed the Amis, and as happy as Courfeyrac was for him, it would be strange without Enjolras. He felt very matronly as he hugged Grantaire goodbye and exchanged last warnings with Enjolras.

 

“Stay safe on the roads, _chère_. It’s calling for snow tonight.” Courfeyrac waited until all the goodbyes were over before shouting his last word. “And practice safe sex, kids!”

 

Grantaire flushed and Enjolras flipped him off. He was rewarded with asmile from Combeferre, though. “Courfeyrac the racy asexual, as always.” Damn, the man was cute.

 

x

 

The snow started just after Enjolras and Grantaire left and kept falling all night. By morning, there were 10 cm, and Paris was in a mild state of panic. Bossuet, who was Canadian, assured the Amis that they would live over the group chat. Combeferre, however, refused to go outside.

 

“I’m not prepared for this! You don’t even have boots! What if someone slips?”

 

“This is so unlike you, Ferre. Have you been spending too much time around Joly?” Courfeyrac laughed.

 

Ferre harrumphed. “I’ve never seen snow like this before. Neither have you! France is supposed to be mild and rainy and not have 10 CENTIMETRES OF SNOW.”

 

“Want to watch a movie, then? Snowy nights are best suited to movie marathons.” Courfeyrac was a gem and Combeferre loved him so much. He started to say so, and then remembered the unfortunate situation they were in love-wise.

 

“I lo—What about Lord of the Rings? We haven’t watched it—”

 

“Since Enjolras’ collège Marxist phase!” Courf interrupted. 

 

“That was quite the spectacle. Broken television and all.”

 

They spent a few minutes happily remembering days gone by - “Remember my braces?” “The year you wore Christmas colours in May!” “Ugh, when you cut all your hair off.” “Worst decision of my life.” (Courfeyrac accompanied the last with a vigorous toss of his curls.)

 

“I don’t think we ever finished The Two Towers.” Combeferre concluded.

 

“Well, we can’t just start at the second one. Let’s have a marathon! Not the extended editions, though. Even I have a limit.”

 

x

 

An hour into Return of the King, Courfeyrac was half asleep. His head was pillowed on Ferre’s chest, and his hand was gently tracing the orbits of the planets tattooed onto Ferre’s arm. It was very nice, and he didn’t plan to move. 

 

The incoherent screaming from the television eventually woke him up a little more, though, and he realized what he was doing. He sat up quickly. Combeferre’s eyes trailed him, and he almost looked _loving_ when Courf rubbed a hand down his face to wake himself up. But surely that was just a trick of the light. 

 

Combeferre could never love him back.

 

x

 

**volontédupeuple** is online.

 

Oh, thank goodness. Combeferre needed a best friend he wasn’t in love with to vent to right away. He called Enjolras, setting up a video chat.

 

“Help!” he moaned.

 

“And good morning to you, too. Has Courf strangled you with tinsel yet?”

 

Combeferre sighed. “No, but he’s _fallen asleep_ on me, which is infinitely worse.”

 

“I can’t believe you haven’t told ea— him. You’ve been complaining to me for - what? Six months? It isn’t that hard to ask someone out.” This prompted raised eyebrows from Combeferre. Enjolras hadn’t even admitted he had feelings for Grantaire until long after everyone else knew or guessed, and he’d taken even longer to finally ask him. “Shut those eyebrows up. Yours is a different situation than mine.”

 

“Yes, because mine isn’t mutual! I can’t admit it to him and ruin our friendship.”

 

Enjolras’ face wasn’t quite synced up with his voice, but it looked as though he’d just resisted the urge to facepalm. “I’ve argued with you before, and I’m sure I’ll do it again, but right now you obviously need to vent. Get it out of your system, Ferre.”

 

x

 

**_courfEYYrac:_** and his TATTOOS, enj

 

how am i supposed to liVE???????

 

**_volontédupeuple:_** you’ve survived Combeferre before. he is your best friend. you see him all the time.

 

**_courfEYYrac:_** thats not the point

 

ur off w ur wonderful bf having a great, sappy xmas

 

while im having a fucking heart attack over combeferre’s MOTH PAJAMA PANTS!!!!

 

i fell asleep on him while watching lotr!!

 

did you know he has a tengwar tattoo

 

**_volontédupeuple:_** shut up and ASK HIM OUT

 

**_courfEYYrac:_** noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

x

 

“So then, the bird— wait a minute, why are you rolling your eyes? I’m not even talking about Courf anymore!”

 

Enjolras looked like a very blond deer caught in the headlights of Combeferre’s metaphorical car (although that could have been due to the terrible Skype connection.) “Um… Courf just texted me something funny.”

 

Combeferre narrowed his eyes. “I don’t hear any maniacal laughter from his room.”

 

“Fine. He’s also pining. And complaining to me!”

 

His heart sank. Of course. Courfeyrac was in love. Probably with Jehan - they were beautiful and nice and a much better fit for him than Combeferre. He faked a smile and continued telling Enjolras his story.

 

x

 

It snowed even more the night before Christmas, and the boys stayed inside for the holiday morning. Enjolras had left his gifts for them under the tree with very strict instructions not to open until the day itself, and Combeferre knew they were going to be good. He himself was going to give the Amis’ gifts to them once the snow melted and it was safe to walk the streets again.

 

Courf made chocolate chip pancakes while Combeferre mixed eggnog and milk in the right proportions (He liked about half and half, and Courfeyrac needed precisely one part eggnog to two parts milk or he’d wrinkle his nose up in a very cute, but disappointed way.) Breakfast was quick, of course, as only a precursor to…

 

“Presents!” Courf squealed as soon as he’d wolfed down his pancakes. Combeferre smiled and followed him to the tree.

 

“Embracing consumerism! I never would have expected it of you, Courfeyrac.” Combeferre joked.

 

“The downfall of capitalism and all that can wait until after Christmas.” Courfeyrac replied, in all seriousness. He was so cute.

 

Enjolras’ presents were wonderful - a pair of robotic cat ears for Courf and a beautiful book on hieroglyphs for Combeferre. Ferre half wanted to stop opening presents and just read, but he was curious about the rest of the gifts.

 

Courf gave him a sweater patterned with scientifically accurate (!!) moths. It was soft and warm, and he put it on immediately. He thought he might have seen Courfeyrac blushing, but it was probably nothing.

 

Combeferre knew Courf would love his present, a shirt emblazoned with the doge meme. True to form, his eyes lit up when he unwrapped it. “Combeferre, my lov—dear,” He stuttered there for a reason unknown to Ferre, “I shall treasure it forever.”

 

They ate chocolate and snuggled on the couch for the rest of the day. It would have been wonderful if not for Combeferre’s heart speeding up every time Courf came near him.

 

x

 

They spent Boxing Day at Joly, Musichetta, Bossuet, and Grantaire’s apartment, although the platonic flatmate was still away with Enjolras. Courfeyrac was glad to get out of the house - as much as he loved Combeferre, he was extroverted as all hell, and needed to see some of the other Amis. Of course, he hadn’t thought through spending a day with the trio seriously challenging Éponine, Marius, and Cosette for cutest relationship.

 

Musichetta greeted them at the door of the flat, covered in tinsel and smiling brightly. There was an ominous thud from inside. She winced. “I think the Eagle has just landed. The boys are trying to get a garland off the ceiling fan.”

 

The inside was a cacophony of winter cheer. “Welcome!” Joly called from halfway under the tree, where it looked as though he was tending to his boyfriend’s latest leg injury. “Chetta, love, can you help Lesgles onto the couch? I think he’s fine, but you can never be too sure—” 

 

The injured party in question silenced him with a finger to the lips. “I’m fine, Jolllly. See?” Bossuet wiggled his foot, jostling the ornaments on the tree. Combeferre laughed and steadied the star precariously perched on top.

 

Courfeyrac hung up his coat and unwound his scarf (knitted by Joly and Feuilly for everyone the Christmas previous.) He picked his way through the decorations towards the kitchen. “Should we make some hot chocolate?”

 

“Definitely!” Crawling out from under the tree, Joly dusted himself off and followed Courfeyrac, kissing the top of Bossuet’s head on his way up.

 

When he and Joly came back out, loaded with mugs of hot chocolate, Ferre and Musichetta weren’t in the living room. “Where did they go?” Courf asked Bossuet.

 

“Relationship advice, I think. Combeferre’s trying to ask someone out!”

 

Joly cooed. “That’ll be so nice. He’s been pining for so long.”

 

Courfeyrac pretended to be happy for his friend, but all he could think about was Combeferre with someone else and not with him. He was melancholy for the rest of the visit.

 

x

 

The last days of December were uncomfortable like they’d never been before. Courfeyrac avoided Combeferre - he didn’t feel like subjecting himself to any more pain. Every time they bumped into each other (whenever Courfeyrac came out of his room, that is) Ferre would seem like he wanted to talk, and Courfeyrac would retreat again to the safety of his room. 

 

He considered going back to his and Marius’ flat, but as much as he couldn't stand Ferre’s presence, he craved it even more. Just hearing his stupid nerdy music and the gentle clacking of his keyboard warmed Courf’s heart. A couple of times, Combeferre played carols on the piano as if to lure him out. He knew Courfeyrac couldn't _not_ sing when there was a catchy song playing. But he stayed resolutely away, not ready to discuss with or even see his best friend.

 

x 

 

Combeferre was very confused. Courf was avoiding him! He had no idea what he’d done wrong. He had been gearing up to finally confess, even asking Chetta for advice, but now he couldn't even talk to his best friend. 

 

On New Year’s Eve, Courfeyrac finally emerged. He was dressed to the nines, and Ferre couldn't help but stare. Courf smiled at him.

 

“I’m sorry. I haven't been… feeling well since Boxing Day. Are you ready to go to the party?”

 

Combeferre beamed back. “Let’s go!”

 

The New Year’s party was held at the Musain every year. It was small, just whichever Amis were in the city and a few friends. Ferre loved it, though. There was always tons of fun to be had.

 

Right before midnight, the countdown began and everyone inched towards significant others and dates. Combeferre turned towards Courfeyrac. It was now or never.

 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

 

Courf’s eyes grew wide. “Yes!” He leaned in as the fireworks went off.

 

Combeferre’s heart was full to bursting as he kissed the man he loved. Their friends cooed around them, but Ferre didn't plan on letting go for a very long time.


End file.
